The SHIELDtacular Spiderman
by Hawk
Summary: Peter Parker, one of SHIELD's finest, is a parttime gadgeteer in the R&D Department, trying to cope with a demanding job at the same time as he attends school. Then, on top of all this, he also winds up getting bitten by a radioactive spider!
1. One

Spiderman - The SHIELDtacular Spiderman 

The SHIELDtacular Spiderman  
Niklas "Hawk" Jonsson  
  
  


Summary: Peter Parker, one of SHIELD's finest, is a part-time gadgeteer in SHIELD's R&D Department, trying to cope with a demanding job at the same time as he attends school. Then, on top of all this, he also winds up getting bitten by a radioactive spider! Oh, what is a teenaged SHIELD agent to do, when he starts to develop superhuman powers?! Perhaps he can confide in his friend Agent Romanov? Agent Natalia Romanova, AKA The Black Widow?  
  
Disclaimer: Spiderman, the characters and whatnot are not mine, though I certainly wish they were The story is mine though, all mine. This series deals with mature subject matters and violence. If this disturbs you, don't read. But if it does, then why the heck are you watching the show/reading the comic/watching the movie in the first place?  
  
Feedback/Flames: Yes, please. Both of them are equally fun to read, although I must admit that I greatly prefer the first variety. :)  
I can be found on ICQ as 21771860 or through e-mail as iamhawk@yahoo.com, more stories are available at my nifty lil' site at or by clicking on my handle up above if you're reading this on fanfiction.net.  
  
"speech"  
*emphasis/shouts/Kindred Domination/post-hypnotic triggers*  
/thoughts/  
*/telepathy/*  
~translation~  
+soundeffect/radio/telephone conversation/TV+  
  


*** Mad Author Ravings ***

  
  
A little hint about continuity, both regular comic and Ultimate? Don't bother looking for it in this fic. :)  
  
You could say that this is a seriously whacked out AU. While it's got some serious Ultimate influences ( Ultimate Spiderman being the greatest thing to happen to the Spiderverse since sliced bread... ), I've been a fan of the comic for *way* too long to pour everything that happens there down the drain. As a result, continuity can go screw itself.  
  
Some things will be from the Ultiverse, some from the comicverse and some will be a blend of the two, making it even harder to make any canon sense out of things. I've also got a few notions of my own that I'm going to inflict upon poor Peter, making an even bigger mess of things. So don't come complaining to me about it later on, you've been warned.  
  


*** Mad Author Ravings Stopped By Gag And Straightjacket ***

  
  


* * *

  
  


Chapter One, Enter Peter Parker:

  
  
"Parker. Fury said you had a new prototype bracelet for me to field-test." an impatient, yet sultry, voice stated, causing the youngest brilliant mind in the organisation to jump as he didn't know that he had company.  
  
"Widow!" he exclaimed, spinning around and clutching his chest, wondering if his wildly hammering heart was about to burst out of his chest or if it would eventually decide to stick around for a while longer. "Yikes, you scared me. Don't you overpaid lazy spooks have anything better to do then scare the crap out of us poor hard-working techies?" he demanded, glaring up at the taller woman.  
  
"Sorry." she apologised. "Old habits die hard." she added with a sheepish smile. "But one would think that you'd eventually learn to deal with it."  
  
"Yeah, well. Gimme a break, it's only my second month." Peter groused and turned back to his workbench. "Gimme a minute and I'll just wrap things up here, before we head on down to the armoury." he requested, then hastily tidied up and collected a few samples that he couldn't just leave lying around. Not unless he wanted Captain Carlson to yell at him again for leaving potentially dangerous chemicals lying around without supervision.  
  
Working for a top-secret offshoot from both conventional military, intelligence and justice did have it's negative sides, but the perks more then made up for such inconveniences as working within a military hierarchical system run by people who seemed to have been born with sticks up their asses and a talent for shouting very loudly.  
  
"What are you working on now?" the redhead inquired, looking curiously over his shoulder.  
  
"Some extra features for the new bracelet." Peter replied evasively. Another drawback was the constant secrecy, absurd amounts of it. She were going to use the damned thing, she would most likely be the one to field-test the damned thing. Yet, he couldn't tell her anything about it until he got clearance to do so.  
  
"I'll be looking forward to it. You've got a real knack for this line of work, kid." she responded and he blushed at the compliment. "I heard some of the other ner... Eh... Techies, talking about you as I arrived. You've made a good impression on them."  
  
"Thanks." he mumbled, trying to keep his attention on what he was doing, instead of the hot older woman in skin-tight spandex standing behind him.  
  
"What made someone as young as you wind up in this business anyway? Manufacturing gadgets and armament for SHIELD 'aint exactly like working part-time at your local supermarket." she inquired.  
  
"I applied for a whole bunch of scholarships and apparently, this made a few bells ring in some automated computer surveilance systems. My data was collected, wound up at personnel and it was decided to approach me, despite my age." Peter replied as he started to put away the equipment, cleaning up after his experiments. "Fury came to see me himself." he added, shaking his head as he recalled the meeting.  
  
Never in his whole life, had he ever met somebody as intimidating as the legendary old war-hero. The eye-patch, the stubble dotting his face, his size, the large cigar jutting out from the corner of his mouth and most of all, the expression on his face. Peter didn't think Fury had blinked even once from the moment he was called to the principal's office and was introduced to Director Fury, to the moment the older man had left.  
  
"Surprised the heck out of me, to tell you the truth." Peter admitted with a chuckle. "But it wasn't an opportunity that I could just pass up. I mean... How often do you get an offer to work with some of the most brilliant minds on the planet, have access to the neatest toys imaginable, get funding up the wazoo *and* serve your country at the same time?" he inquired, but didn't wait for an answer. "So, I go to school and come here in my time off for work and training. It doesn't leave me with much time for anything else, but what the heck, I've never had any social life to talk about before anyway. So it's no big loss." he finished, a pained expression on his face as he talked about his previous life.  
  
Widow nodded, looking at the kid, she could imagine that he wouldn't have had an easy time at school. Even if the training regiment SHIELD required all it's employees to go through had bulked the kid up a bit, a picture of his face wouldn't be out of place in a dictionary under 'nerd'. Kids could be cruel and Peter must have been a perfect target for the bullies at his school.  
  
"There." he finished as everything was back in order. "Lets head on down to armoury and sign out your new toy, eh?"  
  
"Sure thing, kid." she replied.  
  


* * *

  
  
"But all those are just minor improvements on the old design, this right here, is the new feature." Peter explained, having run through a brief explanation of the device to a bored Natalia, who knew the damned thing better then the kid ever could. After all, she had been using them for years. But she tried not to show it, Parker was a good kid. "I think it's rather neat, if I may say so myself." he added and directed the bracelet at a group of training dummies.  
  
But instead of the usual electrical discharge, a sticky mess was launched at the dummies, hastily covering them.  
  
"It's... A web." Natalia commented woodenly, glaring at the wrapped up dummies.  
  
"Yep." Parker proudly replied. "Good for restraining inconvenient people from a distance, creating barriers to block off pursuit and in emergencies..." he explained, then aimed at the ceiling a ways off. "Transportation." he finished, then shot off a thin, narrow line of webbing, then hollered in part excitement, part fear, as he shot off across the room. He wobbled significantly, grazed a workbench and knocked over a colleague, before he came to a stop and eventually managed to get back onto his feet.  
  
"Well, it'd take more practise then I've had, obviously. Seeing as how you have been using your Widows Line previously, it shouldn't take you long to get used to this." he sheepishly continued as he returned to her. "But the uses are endless. You want to get down the Empire State building on the outside? No problem. Just put in a new canister of my webbing, attach it to the top and slide down. You want to climb a flat surface? No problem, just shoot webs and climb. You want to get rid of somebody without killing them? No problem, just net them to a wall or floor. You want a gag? This works like a charm and let's through enough air to let them breathe. You need to escape from pursuers? Just change the setting to sticky and shoot at the ground or floor behind you. You need a cuff? This will do just fine. You need to stop a car? Web it to the ground and it won't be moving for a while."  
  
"Oh..." Natalia commented, starting to see a whole lot more uses for the stuff then when she'd seen him wrap up the dummies. At first, she thought it was just some non-lethal weapon compliment to her Widows Bite, but this... This might just be useful!  
  
"Kid... You *are* good. Your colleagues knew what they were talking about when they praised you." Natalia said, looking with awe as the kid removed the bracelet and handed it to her, along with a metal box filled with small canisters of extra webbing.  
  
"I sure hope so." he chuckled with a faint blush, doing his damndest to keep his eyes off her chest. She smiled. The kid was cute, a real gentleman in a way. It was a shame that he was at least ten years too young for her. Or well, ten was perhaps a bit excessive. Four or five years, at the most. After all, she wasn't an old maid yet and there were all those Hollywood stars setting a good example for women her age!  
  
"Anyway. The grey ones are the regular stuff. It evaporates in an hour, you can shoot wide webs, narrow lines and extra sticky fluid. The blue ones doesn't have the dissolving solution, so the webs are more or less permanent. Very useful for emergency repairs or whenever an hour just won't be enough. It's a bit more solid, not as elastic as the usual mixture, but I imagine it might come in handy from time to time." he explained, flipping open the lid on the box, revealing three different coloured canisters of webbing.  
  
"And the red ones?" Natalia inquired.  
  
"Highly flammable. It's a weapon." Peter sighed. He rather obviously didn't like this part of his job, but did his duty none the less. "Set the setting to extra sticky, and it'll combust on it's own after a few seconds exposure to air. The wide setting increases the time to about five minutes. When you use the line setting, you'll have to manually set it on fire." Peter explained. "I imagine it might be useful for distractions and traps, and also in a pinch, as a flame-thrower."  
  
Natalia swallowed and nodded. She had never been all that fond of fire as a weapon herself, the damages it caused were rather gruesome. But the psychological effects on enemies that saw it used against them, were indisputable. Fire was a truly horrifying weapon. One which she had used in the past, and probably would again should the need arise.  
  
"Shoot a wad of it and cover it with regular webbing, and you have yourself a bomb or grenade." Peter added. "You'll need to completely surround the flammable webbing with regular webbing for greatest effect, but you probably know more about demolitions then I do, so I'll leave the mechanics of that up to you." he continued, a slightly nauseous expression on his face.  
  
"Cheer up, kid. You'll get used to it." Natalia told him.  
  
"That's supposed to cheer me up?" Peter inquired, then shook his head. "That's the hardest part about this job. Knowing that what I create most likely will be used to kill with, or at least assist in killing, sooner or later." he confessed. "Getting used to killing, getting used to murder, that's not something that I want to strive for."  
  
"I've been at this for a while now, kid. Trust me, sometimes it's unavoidable." Natalia revealed, deciding not to mention that it was sometimes a heck of a lot better then the alternatives. "SHIELD has some very good shrinks for you to talk with about things that bother you." she added.  
  
"I know." Peter admitted with a sheepish expression. "After the compulsory physical education and learning how to shoot a gun, Fury took one look at my face then signed me up for two compulsory sessions a week."  
  
"You're a good kid, Parker. Innocent, but good." Natalia informed him.  
  
"Thanks, Widow." he responded.  
  
"Natalia Romanova. Or you can call me Natasha, if you prefer that." she offered.  
  
"Thanks, Miss Romanova." he amended.  
  
"I guess miss Romanova will do for now, Parker." she snorted. The kid was way too polite for his own good. "Now, tell me more about these marvellous little features you've implemented." she implored, slinging one arm around his shoulders and hugging him close.  
  


* * *

  
  
"I'm home." Peter called out as he entered the house, being greeted by the delightful smell of freshly baked cookies.  
  
"Hi, Peter." Aunt May called from the kitchen.  
  
"How was work?" Uncle Ben added from the den, the TV giving off some background noise.  
  
"Oh, same old, same old." Peter replied. They knew what he worked for, they both had to sign a special release form before he could start since he was too young, but he couldn't really tell them what he did for SHIELD. More of that top-secret need-to-know nonsense that he always got shoved down his throat.  
  
Not that they would understand most of what he did even if he told them, but it would have been nice to at least have that option. On days like this, when he'd have to actually explain a weapon that he had helped build to someone who was likely to use it, the need to talk with someone became almost overwhelming. Luckily, he had another session with Doctor Eriksen scheduled for tomorrow. The good doctor would have to do.  
  
"Have you done your homework?" Aunt May asked.  
  
"Yes, Auntie May." Peter replied, heading into the den where he flopped down into the sofa, joining Uncle Ben in front of the TV. "How's it hanging, Uncle B?" Peter asked as he prepared himself to enjoy a calm and relaxing evening at home, away from the stress of school and work.  
  
The End! ( For now... )  
  


*** Additional Mad Author Ravings ***

  
  
Peter Parker working for SHIELD? What the heck is wrong with you, you ask?  
  
The short answer is, a lot. :)  
  
The slightly longer one is that the notion just popped into my head and had to be written down. I liked the way Fury tracked down Peter in Ultimate Spiderman, revealing that they knew that he was Spiderman and that when he turned eighteen, he was *theirs*.  
  
Thus the notion of Spiderman working for SHIELD was lodged itself in my brain and from that, another notion occurred to me. What if Peter Parker was working for SHIELD, before he even became Spiderman? What would happen then? What would happen when he finally gets his powers? How will he cope with school, a part-time job and a side-line as webslinging crimefighter?  
  
I see plenty of fodder for amusing twists'n turns in this situation and thus was born, The SHIELDtacular Spiderman.  
  


*** Author Shutting Up ***

  
  



	2. Two

The SHIELDtacular Spiderman PG-13  
Niklas "Hawk" Jonsson 

Summary: Peter Parker, one of SHIELD's finest, is a part-time gadgeteer in SHIELD's R&D Department, trying to cope with a demanding job at the same time as he attends school. Then, on top of all this, he also winds up getting bitten by a radioactive spider! Oh, what is a teenaged SHIELD agent to do, when he starts to develop superhuman powers! Perhaps he can confide in his friend Agent Romanov? Agent Natalia Romanova, AKA The Black Widow?

Disclaimer: Spiderman, the characters and whatnot are not mine, though I certainly wish they were The story is mine though, all mine. This series deals with mature subject matters and violence. If this disturbs you, don't read. But if it does, then why the heck are you watching the show/reading the comic/watching the movie in the first place?  
If the layout looks screwy or symbols seems to be missing, you're probably reading the quickedit-mangled version of this fic on ff dot net, if it grates on your nerves too much, read it on hawksgalaxy dot com or something.

Feedback/Flames: Yes, please. Both of them are equally fun to read, although I must admit that I greatly prefer the first variety. :)  
I can be found on ICQ as 21771860, MSN Messenger/E-mail as iamhawk at yahoo dot com, though not very frequently as real life lately interferes with my online existance more then I'd like. More stories are available at my nifty lil' site at hawksgalaxy dot com or by clicking on my handle up above.

"speech"  
emphasis/shouts/Kindred Domination/post-hypnotic triggers  
/thoughts/  
/telepathy/  
translation  
+soundeffect/radio/telephone conversation/TV+

Previously, on 'The SHIELDtacular Spiderman' 

"I'm home." Peter called out as he entered the house, being greeted by the delightful smell of freshly baked cookies.

"Hi, Peter." Aunt May called from the kitchen.

"How was work?" Uncle Ben added from the den, the TV giving off some background noise.

"Oh, same old, same old." Peter replied. They knew what he worked for, they both had to sign a special release form before he could start since he was too young, but he couldn't really tell them what he did for SHIELD. More of that top-secret need-to-know nonsense that he always got shoved down his throat.

Not that they would understand most of what he did even if he told them, but it would have been nice to at least have that option. On days like this, when he'd have to actually explain a weapon that he had helped build to someone who was likely to use it, the need to talk with someone became almost overwhelming. Luckily, he had another session with Doctor Eriksen scheduled for tomorrow. The good doctor would have to do.

"Have you done your homework?" Aunt May asked.

"Yes, Auntie May." Peter replied, heading into the den where he flopped down into the sofa, joining Uncle Ben in front of the TV. "How's it hanging, Uncle B?" Peter asked as he prepared himself to enjoy a calm and relaxing evening at home, away from the stress of school and work.

Roll credits 

* * *

Chapter Two: Enter the Spiderman

"What's the matter, Peter? Weren't you the one who was looking forward to this when we were supposed to go half a year ago? You moped around for weeks after the trip was cancelled and now that we're here, you seem bored out of your mind." Harry inquired, looking over with some concern at the bored-looking super nerd by his side.

"Heh." Peter chuckled sheepishly. Half a year ago, he would have been all gaga over what he saw here. But after coming to work for SHIELD, he got to work with state of the art technology on a nearly daily basis. Most of what he used in his day-to-day work was more advanced then what he was looking at right now. "Sorry, drifted off there for a while." Peter stated, then started to feign interest in his surroundings.

A feigned interest, which soon grew into a real one, as their guide started giving them a layman's introduction. Some of what they were working on actually sounded pretty interesting. He shifted the camera he was carrying around and snapped off a few shots. While he only rarely had the time for it these days, he was still a photographer for the school paper and they'd asked him to take a few pictures while he was here.

Quite a few of the pictures he took just 'happened' to include Mary Jane Watson, purely by coincidence of course.

/Yeah, come on... Move just a little bit to the left so the light hits you just... Yeah, just like that./ Peter thought and took another picture of MJ. That one would go into his private collection. For a few moments, he wondered if Widow would let him take a few pictures of her. She was like a fully matured version of MJ and she had a gorgeous facial structure and bodily features. She'd make an awesome model.

"Hey, look at that!"

"Did you bring a pet, Parker?"

"Yikes!" Harry exclaimed, leaping away from Peter with a disgusted expression.

"Huh?" Peter exclaimed, looking around in bewilderment as his mind emerged from pondering the two red-heads in his life and how much he'd like to photograph them, to the excitement that had suddenly broken out all around him.

"Peter! You've got a spider on your hand!" Harry exclaimed and pointed. Peter moved the camera down and spotted the spider, sitting on the back of his left hand.

"Woha!" Peter exclaimed and shook his hand, thereby angering the spider and triggering the event which we're now all familiar with. "AOWIE!" Peter hollered out as the spider bit him, before he managed to shake it off.

"Yiiiii! Don't fling it at me!" Kong shrieked in a fairly girlish manner, leaping aside as the spider came flying at him.

Splat+

"A dead spider is a good spider." Flash Thompson stated, grinding the spider under the heel of his sneaker. "And what's with the scream, Kong? That was like, so gay, you big girlie-man! And Parker, 'aowie'? 'Aowie'! You two fairies should date." Flash snorted dismissively, then strolled over towards a small group of girls, hoping to impress them with his manly behaviour, as Kong trailed after him, protesting against being called a fairy.

"Hey, Peter. You okay, man? You look a bit pale." Harry inquired, walking over to his still shell-shocked friend.

"Yeah... Yeah..." Peter replied, trembling for a few moments. Beads of sweat were starting to appear and his gaze was unfocused. "I'm fine, I'm just... Peachy..." Peter tried to assure his friend, smiling unsteadily. "OOooh, lookit the pwetty colours..." he finished, then keeled over and fainted, unconscious before he hit the ground.

Peter regained consciousness after a couple of minutes, but was excused from the rest of the trip and a call was made to his Aunt and Uncle to come pick him up. Uncle Ben eventually arrived and he was taken home to rest after his 'ordeal'. He called in sick to work and spent the rest of the day cooped up in his room, mothered mercilessly by Aunt May and Uncle Ben. He assured them that he was fine, ate everything they brought him, asked for more and fell asleep soon after finishing up, completely out for the count.

As he slept, the food was processed, in a vastly different manner from what it usually did inside Peter's body. His DNA was doing the Lambada, the RNA was doing the Tango and great changes were implemented to the sleeping young man. When his Aunt woke him up the day afterwards, he was still feverish and she called his school and work, to let them know that he would be absent for yet another day. He asked for food and he got it, surprising everyone in the house with the amounts he ate.

The next morning, Peter woke up on his own and felt like a million dollars.

* * *

"This is... Weird..." Peter muttered, glaring down at the results from the blood test he'd just preformed on himself. Using company resources for personal reasons might not be the most ethical of things to do, but he decided to ignore that for now and instead focus on just what the fuck had happened to him.

While the SHIELD training program had improved matters some, he'd never been what one might call athletic. But now, he was buff! He had a six-pack! His eyes had needed corrective glasses since he was five, but now he had perfect vision without them. And during his required daily work-out, he'd found the weights ridiculously easy to lift, riding the bike hadn't worn him out in the slightest and he'd done the pull-ups one-handedly. Without even breaking a sweat.

He shook his head and brought the papers with him, destroying the blood sample in the incinerator, before heading to the nearest terminal, wanting to check up on if there were any similar recorded cases anywhere in SHIELD's database.

Two hours later, he knew more about the worlds various secret super soldier programs, then he'd ever wanted to know.

He also now knew that Oscorp had been working on just such a program and certain pieces of the mental puzzle he was putting together finally started to make sense. Somehow that spider had injected him with a super-soldier serum. Why Oscorp had let such a valuable specimen run amuck was a bloody mystery, he could only assume that they hadn't been aware that it was roaming free.

Hopefully, that also meant that they didn't know about him being injected with it. But he knew that chances of that were slim, at best. The kid who fell unconscious, would most likely soon be brought to the attention of at least one of the higher ups and if he was unfortunate, that person or persons were aware of Oscorps super solder research.

He shuddered and wondered if he should inform his superiors about this new development. He knew that he was actually required to do so, as this could be a potential threat and Oscorp was under heavy-duty surveillance from SHIELD. But he decided to keep silent for a while longer and to monitor himself very carefully from now on. At the first sign that anything detrimental was happening to him, he was going straight to SHIELD's Bio Med division where he would allow them to poke and prod at him to their little hearts content.

But for now, he had better get back to his station and get some work done, before someone started accusing him of skipping out on work.

* * *

"What am I going to do about this crap?" Peter asked himself, once he was back home in his little dungeon. He leaned back on his couch, staring up at the roof. A TV spot earlier had made him consider going into wrestling for a while, but he'd quickly shot that thought down. He got a nice salary from SHIELD, so money wasn't an issue and the notion of fighting in front of an audience wasn't all that appealing. He couldn't try out for the Olympics or anything of the sort, because if he could find the funky crap in his blood, then no doubt it'd show up during blood tests for steroids and result in a lot of very uncomfortable questions that he wouldn't have any good answers for.

He sighed and shook his head, absently listening to the TV in the background when the program was interrupted by a news flash. The Avengers had taken on some schmuck calling himself The Mandarin, saving the day once again. He sighed and turned his attention to the TV, as the beginnings of an idea started to occur to him.

"Peter Parker, superhero..." he mumbled to himself, nodding absently to himself. "The amazing Parker!" he announced to himself, then shook his head. "Mister Incredible? Buzz Tightends? No, sounds like porno names. Captain New York? No, Captain America might sue for copyright infringement." he mumbled to himself, then shook his head. He could come up with a cool name later, first, he needed a suit! All cool superheroes had suits, didn't they?

He brought out a notepad and a pencil, then started doodling. After a few tries, he skipped the cape. Since he couldn't fly, or at least hadn't figured out how to if he could, it would just get in the way. He could stick to walls, however. A very funky ability, but one that might come in handy sometime. The thong was discarded instantly upon drawing it, while Psylocke of the X-Men was hotter then hell, he didn't like the idea of putting himself on display like that. Not to mention that he didn't want people staring at his ass as he walked down the street.

He sighed, after having gone through at least three dozen various outfits and not liking one of them one bit. He thought hard, still doodling, when he looked down at what he had drawn. /Natalia.../ he realized, watching a rather accurate drawing of the woman in question, dressed in her form-hugging suit. He chuckled to himself as he noted that he'd drawn her with slightly larger breasts and wider hips then she actually had. He blinked and jotted down a male version of her suit, putting his head on it.

He shook his head, then added a ski mask. He certainly didn't want people to know who he was!

"The Black Spider?" he muttered to himself, before dismissing the idea. "The Black Widower? No, not good either." he thought, adding a few subtle spider-designs to the suit he'd drawn. "The Man-spider? No, too corny. The Spider? No, lacks a certain something. Spiderman. ... Spiderman... Peter Parker, the incredible Spiderman? Heh, it has a nice ring to it. Spiderman... Amazing... Spectacular. Yeah! The spectacular Spiderman!"

He looked down at the rather messy drawing, then turned to a fresh page and started drawing the suit all over again. Form-hugging, but not as revealing as to make him ashamed of wearing it. A mask, to conceal his identity. A web-pattern and a Spider logotype on his chest. He added Natalias Stingers to his wrist, a tool belt and removed the boots he'd first included. He noticed that he didn't stick to things as well if he was wearing shoes and if he was a Spiderman, then he'd need to be able to climb walls.

With the Stingers, he'd also have a spider's web.

He looked at the picture and smirked. It was perfect!

Now all he had to figure out was how to make the damned thing and then see about arranging some sort of field test, to trot his superhero stuff for the first time.

* * *

"AAaaaahhhhhhh!"

THUD+

CRASH+

"Owie..."

"Argh, my leg! What the fuck!"

Tarantula was not a happy camper.

He'd simply been minding his own business, instructing a few henchmen in the dastardly plot that would result in Tarantula becoming a very wealthy man.

He had not expected being bowled over by some screaming freak, slammed into one of the weapon crates and breaking his leg.

Especially not by someone who had fibbed his landing/assault/whatever it was, tumbled over and slammed back-first into another crate, slumping to the floor and rubbing the back of his head. Tarantula slowly got back onto his good leg and glared angrily at the weird-ass interruption, dressed in a form-hugging outfit. Obviously some kind of superhero, though he didn't recognize this one.

Must be someone new. Very new, if the semi-botched entry was any indication.

Though it had succeeded in breaking his leg and from the looks of it, the henchmen had been thrown overboard like pins in a game of bowling as this costumed freaked tumbled across the deck of the freighter.

"Que honda, pajero?" Tarantula spat out, wincing in pain as his broken leg was jolted. /How am I supposed to fight like this/ he mentally wailed.

"Uh... Santa Claus? See? I'm wearing red'n everything!" the figure responded as it got back onto its feet. "This place really needs a chimney, I'm simply not used to entering through a window." it added jokingly.

"Very funny, pringao. I'm going to fuck you up real good, cabron." Tarantula spat out and jumped closer to this fucking wannabe superhero. He wasn't quick, but if he could just get close enough, he could swing out with his broken leg and poison this fucking asshole.

"Well, see now that's just rude. You're going on my naughty list. Nothing but coal and webbing for you this year." the asshole responded, raised his arms and Tarantula just barely had time to yelp before he found himself stuck to the deck of the boat.

"What the hell is this!" he snarled, yanking and straining the best he could, trying to get loose from the sticky webbing that held him in place. "Ow! Joto! Conchate un perro, bujerrone! Ow! Chingate tu madre, chapero! Ow!" he spat out, mixing his curses with exclamations of pain as the pulling of the web jostled his broken leg.

"Well, I'm not quite certain what all of that means, but I'm guessing that it won't get you off my naughty list." the infuriating bastard said, quite smugly as he slowly strolled up closer.

"Who the hell are you?" Tarantula snapped, desperately wishing that he could use his broken leg. If he could just angle his foot and put a little pressure on it, he could cut the web with the dagger on his foot.

"You can tell the police that it was the spectacular Spiderman who caught you." the costumed asshole replied.

"The Spiderman. I will remember that." Tarantula swore. He would remember it. He would remember it and once he got out of prison, he'd look this fucker up and make him pay for this fucking humiliation.

"You do that and remember, be a good little boy in the future so that I can scratch you off my naughty list." Spiderman finished, before he extended his right arm, shot out a thin line of webbing and leapt away, vanishing into the night.

* * *

"Owie. Owie. Owie. Owie." Peter whimpered as he slowly stripped out of his costume and seated himself on top of his bed. He obviously still had a lot to learn about how to use those stingers to get around, crashing into Tarantula, the henchmen and that crate on the boat had neither been the first nor the last incident of his first night out. As evidence of that, he had plenty of scrapes and bruises all over his body. It was so much easier to jump from building to building, then to use the net. But it was slow going to jump, using the net was a whole lot faster.

He supposed that he'd get the hang of it eventually, after all, this was the first real field test for him. Widow certainly seemed to have gotten the hang of it over the years, so no doubt he would too.

But for now, he couldn't help but to wonder if he wouldn't be better off trying to learn how to fly or build himself some sort of gadget that would allow him to fly. Some of those bruises hurt like hell!

But these new Stingers... They were fucking awesome! He'd used a payphone to call the cobs after catching Tarantula and he'd stuck around on top of a nearby building waiting to see if they would manage to take that bastard in. They hadn't been able to get him out of the net, instead they had to wait until it dissolved before they could take him in.

He had modified these ones a little bit from the ones Natalia used, softening the sting a bit and he'd tried that one as well, knocking a purse snatcher off his feet. He seemed no worse for the wear afterwards, it was the equivalent of somebody without the proportional strength of a spider punching him. Good for distractions or for taking people out from a distance, without causing too much harm.

He leaned back and rested on top of his bed, looking up at the ceiling.

Despite some minor incidents related to travelling with the web, tonight had been a smashing success. He could be a superhero! He was a superhero!

"I wonder if there's some sort of Union or something I have to join?" Peter wondered out loud and scratched the back of his head. "Do I need to register myself at the post office to get discounts at the dry cleaners, this shtick must be hard as hell on the costumes?" he mused as he glanced over at his dirty and torn costume. Slamming into and scraping against walls at high speeds had just about ruined this one. He would have to make a new one, recovering this was well beyond his meagre abilities.

"I wonder if..." he started, before trailing off. He hadn't told anybody about this yet, he supposed that May and Ben deserved to know, but he wasn't sure how they were going to take it. But if they took it well, he might be able to get Aunt May to help him out with the costumes. He'd obviously need more then one and from the looks of it, they would have to be mended on a fairly regular basis.

Could he tell them? Should he?

He sighed, thoughts like that could wait for a while. He reached down and pushed the torn costume underneath his bed and hid the stingers underneath his pillows, before sliding in underneath the covers. A few hours worth of sleep wouldn't go amiss and he certainly wouldn't mind having a few nice dreams about the two redheads in his life.

The End! ( For now... )


	3. Three

The SHIELDtacular Spiderman PG-13  
Niklas "Hawk" Jonsson

Summary: Peter Parker, one of SHIELD's finest, is a part-time gadgeteer in SHIELD's R&D Department, trying to cope with a demanding job at the same time as he attends school. Then, on top of all this, he also winds up getting bitten by a radioactive spider! Oh, what is a teenaged SHIELD agent to do, when he starts to develop superhuman powers?! Perhaps he can confide in his friend Agent Romanov? Agent Natalia Romanova, AKA The Black Widow?

Disclaimer: Spiderman, the characters and whatnot are not mine, though I certainly wish they were The story is mine though, all mine. This series deals with mature subject matters and violence. If this disturbs you, don't read. But if it does, then why the heck are you watching the show/reading the comic/watching the movie in the first place?  
If the layout looks screwy or symbols seems to be missing, you're probably reading the quickedit-mangled version of this fic on ff dot net, if it grates on your nerves too much, read it on hawksgalaxy dot com or something.

Feedback/Flames: Yes, please. Both of them are equally fun to read, although I must admit that I greatly prefer the first variety. :)  
I can be found on ICQ as 21771860, MSN Messenger/E-mail as iamhawk at yahoo dot com, though not very frequently as real life lately interferes with my online existance more then I'd like. More stories are available at my nifty lil' site at hawksgalaxy dot com or by clicking on my handle up above.

"speech"  
emphasis/shouts/Kindred Domination/post-hypnotic triggers  
/thoughts/  
/telepathy/  
translation  
+soundeffect/radio/telephone conversation/TV+

Previously, on 'The SHIELDtacular Spiderman'

He leaned back and rested on top of his bed, looking up at the ceiling.

Despite some minor incidents related to travelling with the web, tonight had been a smashing success. He could be a superhero! He was a superhero!

"I wonder if there's some sort of Union or something I have to join?" Peter wondered out loud and scratched the back of his head. "Do I need to register myself at the post office to get discounts at the dry cleaners, this shtick must be hard as hell on the costumes?" he mused as he glanced over at his dirty and torn costume. Slamming into and scraping against walls at high speeds had just about ruined this one. He would have to make a new one, recovering this was well beyond his meagre abilities.

"I wonder if..." he started, before trailing off. He hadn't told anybody about this yet, he supposed that May and Ben deserved to know, but he wasn't sure how they were going to take it. But if they took it well, he might be able to get Aunt May to help him out with the costumes. He'd obviously need more then one and from the looks of it, they would have to be mended on a fairly regular basis.

Could he tell them? Should he?

He sighed, thoughts like that could wait for a while. He reached down and pushed the torn costume underneath his bed and hid the stingers underneath his pillows, before sliding in underneath the covers. A few hours worth of sleep wouldn't go amiss and he certainly wouldn't mind having a few nice dreams about the two redheads in his life.

Roll credits

* * *

Chapter Three: First Flight

"Uh... C-c-commander Fury? C-contessa? Agent Romanova?" Peter stuttered, taking an involuntary step backwards, before he caught himself. "Come in. Come in. To what do I owe this honour?" he inquired nervously as the three guests strolled into the house. He fervently wished that this wasn't at all related to the events of last night, but he guessed that the chances of that were slim to none. Especially as Fury himself had decided to show up on his family's doorstep on a Sunday morning.

"Spiderman." Nick Fury replied, before focusing his stern one-eyed gaze at Peter, as he seated himself in the couch without waiting for an invitation to do so. "Did you really think that you could keep it a secret from me?" he inquired and the already sky-high intimidation value was increased by yet another notch as the Contessa took up a position behind Fury, adding her own two-eyed glare to Fury's one-eyed.

"Uh... Eh... Uh... Yeah?" he feebly replied and swallowed, feeling the bile rising at the fact that the supreme Commander of SHIELD obviously knew that he was Spiderman. He was incredibly grateful that Aunt May and Uncle Ben was out shopping at the moment. He glanced over at Natalia, who was leaning against the wall next to the couch, observing the proceedings with a bemused smile. Peter swallowed again, he knew the sort of missions Natalia preformed on occasion. Was she going to be the one to terminate him?

"You thought wrong, Parker." Fury commented and lit up a cigar, spitting the chewed-off end of it onto the floor. "You, just like all our newer employees, are under more or less constant surveillance for the first year of employment. I found out about it almost as fast as you yourself did. We've been keeping you under careful tabs ever since, observing and analyzing your actions. Normally, we couldn't do much about it since you're still a kid and wouldn't even if we could as long as you keep your actions at least somewhat legal. Beyond being a vigilante, of course. But all that changed when you were employed by us. You then gained all the privileges of an adult, as well as the responsibilities of one." Fury explained with a smirk.

"You've done great work for us so far, Parker. You'll continue to do so, but in a whole new capacity." Contessa added and gestured at Natalia standing beside the couch. "Parker, meet your new partner. Natalia, say 'hi' to Parker."

"Hi, Parker." Natalia said with a wry smile.

"Hi..." Peter eventually responded, completely shocked by what had just transpired. "I'm... Being transferred to Black Ops?" he managed to get out, once his mental faculties had somewhat recovered from his stunned amazement.

"For now. Though we may put you in the Avengers, after we've evaluated your performance more closely for a while and given you some additional training. Face it, Parker. You're more suited for it then most of our operatives will ever be. The red'n blue suit has to go, however." Fury replied and puffed on his cigar. "And whatever possessed you to come up with the handle, 'Spiderman'? I'll have Public Relations brainstorm about something better."

"I... I kinda like Spiderman..." Peter mumbled in embarrassment.

"The Black Widow and the Spiderman. Well, I guess it'll work. Just don't expect me to start calling myself 'Spiderwoman' anytime soon." Natalia commented.

* * *

"Well... I needn't have worried about suits, I guess..." Peter mumbled to himself three days later as he carried two large boxes down into his basement. He opened the first one and stared down at tailored combat suits modelled after the Spiderman suit he'd made himself last week. He picked one of them up and marvelled at the exquisite quality of it.

As opposed to the one of his own fabrication, this one was apparently made out of the same Kevlar hybrid materials that all SHIELD's combat suits were made out of. It was incredibly resistant to wear'n tear, offered insulation against electricity and weaker energy based attacks. It wasn't quite bullet-proof, but it could deflect bullets as long as they weren't headed straight at the one wearing the suit and even if they were, it'd soften the impact some before they tore into the flesh beneath.

He swallowed nervously at that severely uncomforting thought and kept on looking at the suit.

The material wasn't quite as thick around his feet and hands as the rest of it, allowing him to better stick to walls. The colours were a lot clearer then on his original suit, the hood had proper SHIELD visors covering the eyes instead of the cheap-o mirror shades he'd attached to the old one. With the controls now hidden underneath a panel in his tool belt, he could gain night vision. He felt around the throat of his suit and found a microphone hidden there, as well as speakers hidden around the ears of the hood. Those were also connected to the SHIELD tactical network, allowing for him to listen to the police radio as well as stay in touch with HQ.

The weakened Stingers he'd built for himself had been replaced with proper ones, the very same version that Natasha now used. His tool belt was now a proper tool belt, instead of merely a place to store extra webbing. He had flashlights, smoke bombs, flash bangs, a money compartment, a knife, screwdriver and whatnot. Hidden behind the Spider-shaped belt buckle, was also a place for his new NYPD ID and badge, giving Spiderman official status as a policeman, with the right to arrest criminals.

He shook his head and put the suit back, closing the box and opening the other one.

He shook his head and slowly pulled out one of the suits in this box. This was quite different from the red and blue one he'd come up with himself. This was more similar to one of his early designs, when he'd used Widows black suit as a base. This one was black as night, all over, designed for concealment as opposed to the flashy image he'd went for with the first suit. Other then that and a special layering on the outside of it that would give him a chameleon-like ability to blend in with his surroundings, it was the same as the red and blue one.

Fury had 'generously' allowed him to go on doing good deeds on his own time and even provided the red and blue suits for it. But when Peter was on the clock and working for SHIELD, he'd have to wear the black suits. He shook his head and put the suit back, then carried both boxes over to his SHIELD locker which he'd been given when he first started working for them so he would have somewhere to lock up sensitive materials he may or may not take home with him.

He put his palm against the reader and winced as a blood sample was extracted from the palm of his hand as his fingerprints were being scanned, before the door opened for him.

It was nearly empty, only containing copies of the paperwork he had to sign when he first started working for SHIELD. Now, he also put all his new suits into the locker, before he closed it.

He was already wearing one of the red and blue ones underneath his clothes, having been given a prototype suit yesterday as he went in for training.

It had been a gruelling three days of tests, training, more tests and even more training on top of that, since Fury had announced that his spidery ass was his for the rest of his life. He was now at least moderately competent at web-slinging as he'd started calling it and he'd progressed amazingly in his unarmed combat training. He'd discovered that in addition to enhanced reflexes, heightened speed and super strength, that he also possessed some sort of supernatural cognition that let him know when he was in danger. All this, coupled with the fact that he was now a whole lot more agile then he'd ever been before, resulted in him being very good at hand-to-hand.

His new partner had been lavish with her praise and while she was without a doubt the more skilled of the two, she had yet to actually beat him thanks to his superhuman abilities. The fact that he was quicker, stronger, more durable and could sense when she was about to lash out at him, gave him an edge she just couldn't beat, in spite of the fact that she had been trained to fight by some of the worlds best. With her teaching him those very same skills, he'd only get better.

Of course, it wasn't all praise and admiration. She was just as generous with her scathing comments as her lavish praise over his combat skills whenever the subject of getting his hands dirty came up.

Peter was basically a pacifist at heart. While he was worldly enough to realize and admit that violence was sometimes the preferred course of action, he just couldn't condone killing or even seriously injuring others, either in the line of duty or otherwise. This was a major issue between the two of them and he guessed that it would continue to be so, as he wasn't inclined to change his mind about that any more then she apparently was.

He had also had daily sessions with Doctor Eriksen. Very different sessions then the ones he was used to.

Instead of teaching him to handle the fact that his inventions could be used to kill and the guilt he felt over that, he now had de-sensitization sessions, where he was taught to separate his thoughts from his emotions. When he got the hang of it, he'd be able to keep his cool and work effectively even when faced with the most horrifying of sights. There was also a part of those meetings being devoted to the guilt he felt over having to go through those sessions.

"Boy, am I fucked up..." Peter mumbled to himself as he paced back and forth in his basement as he pondered the assignment he'd been given. SHIELD had arranged for him to have the entire week off from school and other then the testing and training he was going through, he'd been given another assignment.

Public relations.

Spiderman had to be seen, taking names and kicking ass, generally being a regular superhero type. He also had to do it in his red'n blues. The shrinks and publicists had also suggested that he keep on being jovial and joking, as he had when apprehending Tarantula, whenever he wore the red and blue. On the other hand, when he wore the black, he'd keep his mouth shut and allow Natasha to do the talking, if any talking was necessary. For some reason, Fury didn't want Spiderman to be associated with The Black Spider as he'd decided to call Peter when wearing the black suit.

"The Black Widow and the Black Spider..." Peter muttered under his breath. He wasn't at all fond of that name and really wished that Fury had come up with something else.

Then again, he certainly wasn't about to tell Fury that!

He shuddered as he tried to imagine himself arguing with Fury, only to have the much older man silently glare at him. That was all it would take, most likely.

Nicholas Fury could glare like none other Peter had ever met.

Speaking of which, he'd better head on out and do some good deeds, or Fury might stare at him when he went in to the 'office' later on.

* * *

"Yergh. Banana-bread and salami do not mix."

Dave Wilson blinked, stopped in mid-motion from taking a bite out of his sandwich. He thought he knew every guy on the job, but that was one voice he didn't recognize. He looked up and nearly fell off the iron girder as he spotted the city's latest superhero, Spiderman, above him sitting upside down on the girder above Dave. Spiderman had pushed his mask up, though his 'up' was currently 'down', a bit and was holding a large sandwich wrapped in aluminium foil in his hands.

"Uh... I got some egg, ham, mayo and cucumber onna rye, if y'wanna switch..." Dave hesitantly offered, blinking as he stared up at the fellow sitting above him.

"Egg and mayo? Well, I guess I get enough exercise to spoil myself once in a while." Spiderman responded with a wry smile, then let his own sandwich drop down onto Dave's lap. "It's a deal." he continued.

"Uhm, here..." Dave weakly replied and held up his own sandwich.

"Thanks man. Appreciate it." Spiderman replied and gratefully accepted the trade, taking a large bite out of it. "Mmmm, much better."

"What are you doing here?" Dave hesitantly asked after a few moments of simply staring at the odd guy sitting above him, defying all laws of gravity.

"Lunch break. Gotta recharge the old batteries from time to time." Spiderman wryly replied and took another bite out of his newly acquired sandwich. "If things keep on being quiet, I thought I'd help you guys out some afterwards." he continued and took a few sips from a water bottle strapped to his tool belt. The guys and girls in the PR department had suggested that he do something other then merely crime fighting and had given him a list of suggested activities. With his strength, webbing and ability to stick to walls, construction had been one they'd suggested for him to try out.

The Daily Bugle had already started making him out to be some sort of dangerous vigilante, in spite of the fact that he'd flashed his badge from time to time to prove that he wasn't a vigilante, merely a very unusual policeman. The other papers were lots better, but it seemed as if the Bugle had decided to stick with their original angle for a while longer. He shrugged, the NYPD would have a press conference in two days and after that, the Bugle would only make themselves look silly if they kept on accusing him of being a vigilante or possible criminal.

It certainly helped having SHIELD holding his back for this super-hero shtick. He'd never even considered what sort of trouble he could have wound up in when he decided to become a superhero. If it wasn't for SHIELD, things would likely be extremely messed up if he'd struck out on his own.

He jerked as he got the message over the police radio that there'd been a robbery and he sighed, shaking his head as he took another sip of water before he pulled his mask back in place.

"Hey. I gotta make trails, there's a robbery in progress. Here, have the rest of this." he said and let the remainder of the sandwich drop into Dave's lap, before he shot off a strand of webbing and swung away.

"Wow." Dave commented to himself, before he shook his head and threw Spidermans sandwich over his shoulder, before he picked the rest of his own up from his lap. "He was right. Banana-bread and salami do not mix well."

* * *

"Oh, great. A flying geriatric robber. What's next, a blind superhero?" Peter commented as he touched down on the back of the flying bird-geezer he'd just tracked down and caught up with.

"Gngh! What the?!" the old man grunted and suddenly lost a great deal of altitude after the addition of some unexpected weight onto his back. "Get off!" he snapped.

"Nuh-uh. Not going to happen. You're going down, birdbrain! At your age, you ought to know better then to rob jewellery stores, grandpa." Peter quipped and caught the attaché case from the old mans hand by the way of a well-placed web-line.

"Hey, thief! Give me that!" the old man exclaimed and turned around, expecting to loose the unexpected passenger by the unexpected manoeuvre. Much to the old mans apparent surprise, Peter's feet stuck to his back and he managed to remain in place, in spite of standing upside down on the old mans back. "What the... What sort of freak are you?" the old man demanded to know.

"I am the spectacular Spiderman, one of NYPD's finest. And you old man, are under arrest." Peter informed the old guy, plucking out his badge from behind his belt, which he flashed in the white-haired old mans face, before he put it back. "Now, if you'd just land somewhere real easy-like, I'll read you your rights."

"Drop dead." the old man snapped, then made a series of twisting turns, swift rolls and bucking moves, which did succeed in throwing Peter off his back.

"Wahooo!" Peter exclaimed in mock glee as he dropped away, then spun around and struck the old mans arms with two lines of webbing, creating the worlds ugliest hand-glider. "I've always wanted to try this, so thank you for the opportunity!" he exclaimed and tugged on the webs, trying to direct his impromptu human kite.

"You freak! Let go of me! You'll bring us both down!" his opponent snarled.

"Y'know, you're unexpectedly good at this. I figured we'd have gone down pretty much instantly once I jumped onto your back. And even now, with your arms and wings pretty much held up, we're still not loosing altitude as quick as I'd figured." Peter mused out loud as he gave another couple of experimental tugs, looking up and observing the wings of his thieving adversary. "They're mostly for show and doesn't really carry your weight, aren't they? I'm guessing that you're carrying some sort of anti-gravity device or something. Am I right?" he asked.

"None of your business, man-spider! Now lemme go!" was the angry response.

"Boy, you're boring." Peter sighed. "And it's Spiderman! What are you calling yourself by the way? The Magpie?" he jested cheerfully.

"The Vulture!" he growled. "Now, get off!" he yelled and waved his arms frantically, bucking and twisting in an attempt to dislodge his unwanted passenger.

Or so it seemed at least.

"Waaahgck!" Peter cried out as his danger cognition, what he'd dubbed his 'spider sense' started informing him that something was frantically trying to get his attention. Only Peter didn't realize what was up, until he slammed straight into the wall of a building while the Vulture just barely cleared the roof of it.

Of course, since the webs were stronger then the Vulture had thought, it didn't do the old man much good as his forward motion was halted and he slammed head-first into the roof, completely knocking him out.

"Ow. Ow. Ow." Peter whimpered as he slowly dragged his beaten body up onto the roof, where he laid down on his back and took deep breaths as he tried to recover. "Okay, note to self. When travelling with bad-guy air, always keep an eye on where you're going." he mumbled to himself, then slowly got onto his feet. He cut off the webs from his stingers, then pulled the Vulture up onto his feet, before he fired new webs at him, tying him up more securely.

+Spiderman. Are you all right?+ a male voice inquired over the SHIELD tactical communication network.

"Just peachy." Peter replied as he threw Vulture over his shoulders and started walking down the wall of the building. "I'd appreciate it if you sent a car to this address to pick up this fellow, however."

+Consider it done. We'll send one of our units in NYPD colours. The guys from R&D want to have a look at how that guy could fly unassisted. Over and out.+ the switchboard operator informed him.

"Great. Over and out." Peter replied and kept on descending, cheerfully waving at people inside the windows he walked on by on his way towards the ground, causing quite a few surprised expressions and exclamations as the office workers saw a man in a form-hugging spider costume walking casually outside their windows, carrying an unconscious senior citizen dressed in a green jump-suit with large white wings attached to it.

The promised undercover SHIELD unit showed up just seconds before Peter reached the ground and two disguised SHIELD agents took Vulture into custody. Peter hesitated for a few moments, then asked for a ride back to HQ. He could web his way over there, but while the crash into the wall wasn't all that serious, he didn't quite feel like web-slinging at the moment as that would no doubt worsen the faint hints of pain that still remained.

His body recovered unusually fast, but it had been quite the impact, so as not to aggravate his injuries, he decided to take the easy way out and hitch a ride to HQ. Which was another little perk of having the backing of a powerful organisation, Peter guessed. Had he been going at it alone, he'd have to move around on his own, no matter his injuries.

He shuddered at the thought, trying to imagine just how much his life would have sucked if he'd been on his own, while other Peter Parkers in other universes and timelines felt oddly cheated somehow, without quite knowing the reason for it...

The End! ( For now... )


End file.
